A-Doc-pted
by SalixMendax
Summary: There's a man in a box, a boy in a cupboard and a woman who teaches by example. Jack just wants his warehouse back and Delwin is having far too much fun.


"It's like magic! It happened all by itself!" The words slipped out before Harry could stop them and a heavy blow landed on the back of his head.

"I have told you not to use that word, boy," Vernon roared, spittle flying in Harry's face, "Go to your cupboard, now!"

Harry scowled and stomped as loudly as he dared in the direction of the cupboard under the stairs. That strange explosion had probably saved Uncle Vernon's life and Harry hadn't even got so much as a thank you, not that he had known how he'd done it mind you.

Sat in the comforting, stuffy darkness of his cupboard (the only place, the only thing, he dared call his own) Harry wondered what the point of it all was. He was rapidly approaching the point where he wasn't sure what an achievement was anymore.

He didn't know how to be proud of himself, and he wasn't sure what he should be proud of in the first place.

They came three days later. There was a pretty lady in the sitting room with Aunt Petunia when Harry got home from school. She had bright red hair, like Harry's mum did in that photo he wasn't supposed to have seen, and she was trying not to grimace whenever Aunt Petunia laughed. For Harry, this was enough to tentatively not dislike her, even if she was Aunt Petunia's friend.

Knowing better than to interrupt, Harry went straight to the kitchen to start making dinner. Of course, there was a stranger in there as well.

The skinny man was rummaging through the cupboards like his life depended on it and his clothes were getting very rumpled.

Drawing up his courage to break through a lifetime of conditioning, Harry took a deep breath and asked in his loudest voice, "Excuse me, but, umm, who are you?"

The man banged his head with a muffled curse then wriggled out of the cupboard and spun to face Harry. As soon as the strange man caught sight of the little boy the broad grin twitched into a frown and Harry automatically took a step back.

"Hello," the man said, bringing his face back into a smile as his sharp eyes shrewdly studied Harry, "I'm the Doctor. Who are you?"

Harry wasn't sure, since he'd never been to the doctor's before, but he was pretty sure that they didn't rummage around cupboards when Harry was supposed to be making dinner.

"Are you supposed to be in here?" Harry asked, remembering what the teachers at school had said about talking to strangers. He couldn't not talk to the man completely since he was in Aunt Petunia's kitchen but maybe not telling him anything important would work just as well.

"Honestly, it's hard to tell sometimes," doctor-man said, scratching his head, "You haven't by any chance seen a talking blob of purple goo about yay high, have you?" The doctor-man gesture to a height about the same size as Harry.

"You have! Brilliant!" exclaimed doctor-man, seeing the look of apprehension on Harry's face, "Where?"

"In the back garden," Harry said, chewing his lip and glancing unnecessarily to check Uncle Vernon wasn't nearby, "It was a bit bigger though, and, and it tried to eat Uncle Vernon."

"What do you mean _tried_ eat him? Why did it stop?" doctor-man asked a serious expression on his narrow face, "And how much is a bit bigger?"

Harry stood on his tippy-toes and reached to a point that was almost at the man's chin. "I think it was this big," Harry said, falling back on his heels and looking down at his shoes, "It didn't stop trying to eat Uncle Vernon. It just exploded before it could finish."

Doctor-man's eyes went wide, and he waved a metal, glowing, blue stick at Harry. After shaking the stick-thing next to his ear and humming thoughtfully, doctor-man asked, "And how did your Uncle react when the Fikatiren, the blobby thing, exploded?"

Harry flinched and that seemed to be all the answer doctor-man needed.

"Come on, we need to get you checked out," doctor-man said, somehow ushering Harry into the sitting room without touching him, "Mrs Dursley, your son -"

"Nephew," Aunt Petunia corrected him in the same tone she normally reserved for particularly stained underwear.

"Apologies, your nephew has come into contact with a potentially dangerous creature and I need him to come with me to make sure he isn't suffering from permanent side-effects," the doctor-man said briskly, settling his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Aunt Petunia got a particularly pinched look about her lips and said curtly, "He looks alright to me."

"Looks alright to... Can you even hear yourself?" the pretty woman said crossly, her voice getting louder and louder, "You've bin yammerin' on about your son since I got 'ere but you get told your nephew might die and it's all 'looks alright to me'?" She sneered at Aunt Petunia in a particularly impressive fashion then crouched down in front of Harry with a kind smile. "And what's your name, sweetheart?"

Harry was feeling conflicted. The pretty lady had been shouting, like Uncle Vernon did, but she was shouting at Aunt Petunia, which Uncle Vernon never did, and she called him sweetheart, which Harry had never been called before but he rather quite liked.

"Ha-Harry," he said, ducking his head as the word slipped out before he could stop it. That seemed to be happening rather a lot today.

"Okay, Harry, I'm Donna," the lady said, resting her hand on Harry's cheek and exchanging a glance with doctor-man, "Why don't you show me your room while the Doctor talks to your Auntie?"

Harry froze in horror, eyes darting rapidly between the gentle hand and the pasty fury on Aunt Petunia's face. Rule number two at the Dursleys', only slightly less important than rule one ('Do as your told and don't ask questions, boy'), was never let anyone know about the cupboard. He didn't want to disappoint the nice Miss Donna, but he couldn't break the rules.

"How about we go out into the garden instead?" Miss Donna said, seemingly noticing Harry's distress. Harry immediately felt like he could breathe again. He knew loads about the garden.

Harry was just showing Miss Donna Aunt Petunia's prized hydrangeas when the Doctor (apparently it was his name, not a title) came out of the house with a carrier bag and a rather brittle smile.

"All ready to go then?" Miss Donna asked, and Harry felt a sharp stab of grief. He had only known this woman for half an hour, and he knew he'd miss her forever.

"Yup," the Doctor said, swinging the carrier bag idly, "but I've got to ask Harry something first." He pushed the carrier bag into Miss Donna's hands then crouched down so he was on eye level with Harry. "If I told you I could take you away from here forever, Harry, what would you say?"

Harry was frozen again, his limbs stuck in figurative treacle and outside his control. To be able to leave? Forever? What was the catch? Uncle Vernon had always told Harry how horrible orphanages were and how lucky he was not to have been dumped in one the night they found Harry on the doorstep.

"Well, there'd be lots of running and adventures, and I would absolutely want you to ask questions. You'll see some amazing, awesome things as well as some quite terrible ones as well," the Doctor said, making Harry startle, "Oh, and did I mention I'm a mildly telepathic alien with a space/time machine?"

"Doctor, can I have a quick word?" Miss Donna said, grabbing the Doctor's arm and pulling him a few feet away. Harry felt his heart sinking as the couple had a furious, whispered conversation. Finally, Miss Donna shook her head at the Doctor, and he gave her a hug, tight and grateful.

"So, what do you say Harry?" The Doctor said with a bright, hopeful smile, "Do you want to come with us and see the universe?"

* * *

Sometimes, Harry looked back on that day and he wondered how his life would have been if he hadn't taken the Doctor up on his offer. He imagined life would have been quite dull and lonely, if a little safer, comparatively speaking.

From his seventh birthday, Harry had grown up travelling the stars. He'd learned all sorts of incredible things from a whole range of fantastical beings. But, the most important things Harry had learned had come from the most ordinary looking sources.

Donna had taught him compassion right from the moment they'd first met. Harry had idolised her after she took him shopping for the first time. Harry had never known that clothes could be so comfy or so soft until Donna had bought them for him. She'd made him hot chocolate when he had a nightmare and Harry had never been so warm as he felt when she enveloped him in a hug. But it was how she treated everybody, big or small, alien or human, that made Harry adore her. One day Harry wanted to be able to say what he thought as confidently as Donna.

The Brigadier, who Harry visited with the Doctor from time to time, had told him amazing stories about when the Doctor had worked with U.N.I.T. and had taught Harry the importance of honour and doing your duty. Thankfully they didn't visit too often because, even though he liked him, Harry still found the Brigadier a bit scary at times. The man had Harry's respect for keeping up with the Doctor for so long.

Jack, an immortal ex-conman who worked for Torchwood, had practically taken Harry under his wing when they first met in Cardiff. The Doctor had gone to refuel the TARDIS and to introduce Harry to what he called the best fish-and-chips in the galaxy. Inevitably they had been caught up in a Weevil chase.

Jack had taught Harry all sorts of sneaky tricks, as well as the importance of keeping an open mind. He'd also been the one to give Harry the Talk when Harry was nine and the Doctor panicked when they accidently landed on Fru-frea-tablous, the Most _Fun _Place in All the Galaxy. If they'd arrived just ten years earlier, they would have landed in the amusement park they'd been aiming for.

Then there was River, who stole the TARDIS on occasion, and had taught Harry how to shield his mind so the Doctor wouldn't know she'd been there. She had an irritating habit of pinching Harry's cheeks whenever she saw him. Apparently, the Doctor hadn't met her yet, but one day he would travel with her. River called her periodic TARDIS-napping 'pre-emptive adventures' whatever that meant; she would only ever answer with 'Spoilers!' if Harry tried to ask. Harry wouldn't have trusted her if the TARDIS didn't and, if there was one thing Harry had learned better than anything, it was to trust the TARDIS.

Out of everybody, it had been the Doctor who had taught Harry the most.

The Doctor had taught Harry all the lessons Harry would have missed because he wasn't in school: maths, science, languages. Unfortunately, the Doctor taught Harry to the level he would be at if he'd been born in the same year as Jack, and a mid-51st century primary education was far more advanced than it late-20th century counterpart. Still, it was useful to be able to build a nuclear reactor on his own.

It had been the Doctor who told Harry what he was. At Harry's point in history, humans called them wizards, those that knew about them at least. Apparently in every sentient race there were individuals who had enough will-power and the mental and physical requirements to harness small fragments of the creation energy left over from the Big Bang. On Earth there were enough of these aberrations to band together and form their own community and culture, albeit a secret one.

More importantly though the Doctor had been the one to teach him about hope and curiosity and standing up for what was right as well as for himself. He taught Harry to be proud of himself and his achievements and Harry got the feeling that this was one of the most important lessons he could have learned.

Harry had wanted to travel the universe with the Doctor forever once he found out how fun it was, but the Doctor had explained about fixed points in time and how Harry had to go be part of some of them at Hogwarts. The Doctor told him that lots of people would die if he didn't and that had been enough to convince Harry. The only major issue that Harry could see was boredom when he had to stay in one place and follow a set schedule. A trip to meet the Founders of Hogwarts was enough to fix that. Anything those four would build was bound to be fun.

* * *

It had been nine years since Harry had first boarded the TARDIS (there had been an incident when he got stuck in a time loop for five years in the five minutes the Doctor had taken to get him out, he still looked eleven) and now Harry was getting ready to say goodbye. He'd miss the Doctor and the TARDIS and the adventures, good and terrible, but he would never fail to be grateful for all that they had done for him.

Harry just hoped he could make them proud.

Goblins, Harry decided, reminded him of shorter, squatter Silurians. He said as much when he got back to the empty warehouse Jack had converted into a home after being escorted shopping by a very large, very hairy man called Hagrid.

Harry had been staying with Jack for two weeks before his Hogwarts letter came. He needed to be on Earth for the letter to reach him and Jack was the one with the most experience at establishing cover-stories and the like. It was part of his job at Torchwood.

Jack hadn't actually met Harry yet and was very displeased with the Doctor for not stopping to say hello when he dropped him off, but Harry had managed to convince him to let him stay. He had to be careful with what he said around Jack, but it was something that he had learned to deal with what with occasionally visiting a place while it was still being built that he'd also already been to the funeral of. Harry was beginning to understand why River said 'Spoilers' so often.

Of course, Jack had only agreed to it (aside from his unrequited crush on the Doctor) because he wanted to see all the magic stuff for himself. If he was registered as Harry's guardian, Jack could officially know about magic and not have to pretend he'd forgotten when wizards tried to wipe his memory.

This happened with alarming regularity when an artefact was both alien and magic.

Harry had also promised Tammy, one of Jack's nicer co-workers, that he'd make a report on the socio-economic status of the wizarding world, so Torchwood would know whether they needed to make contingency plans for the Big Reveal. The brief reminded Harry of some of the projects the Doctor had assigned him for homework when he wanted to keep Harry out of trouble on distant planets. Harry had always liked Geography.

"I'll take your word for it," Jack agreed, having not met Silurians before (yet), and put the kettle on to make coffee for him and raspberry tea for Harry, "I didn't like the way those people were fawning over you though. You sure you're going to be okay on your own?"

"Yeah," Harry said, waving his hand in a don't worry sort of manner, "I have to whip up a perception filter to attach to my emergency teleport anyway. Shouldn't be too hard to make it variable if I want some privacy."

"What about those wards you were telling me about?" Jack said, straightening one of the rugs that hid the fact the floors were still concrete with his foot, "The ones that prevent lightning strikes but also blow out any electrical devices that get in range."

"Some basic EMP shielding should do it," Harry said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea, "At least it sounded that way when Rowena was telling me about them."

"Of course, it did," Jack muttered, not very well versed in the mythology and hagiography of the wizarding world but knowing enough to know the woman Harry was talking so casually about was one of the most influential figures in British wizarding history.

Harry merely smiled and sipped his lovely, warm tea. A warehouse, not matter how homey and colourfully decorated, was still a drafty warehouse.

* * *

The Sorting of the First Years was a time-honoured tradition at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was a day that largely decided the futures of the young, soon-to-be students and marked the beginning of their journey to becoming the great witches and wizards they were meant to be.

For the Sorting Hat, who had seen almost a thousand of these ceremonies, it was all a bit dull.

Hello... The Sorting Hat jerked out of its boredom at the sight of the most impressive mental shields it had seen since it was stolen by the mad woman with incredible hair in the fourteenth century.

'It's bad manners to try and poke around someone's head without introducing yourself first,' the child the Hat had been trying to sort said crossly.

'My apologies,' the Hat replied, 'I am the Sorting Hat. Can I look inside your head so that I may sort you into your correct house?'

'That sounds more like a title than a proper name,' the child observed as he lowered the mental shield enough for the Sorting Hat to see in, 'Nice to meet you Sorting Hat. I'm the Supreme Bhiggles of Bhiblohababkins. You can call me Harry."

"If we're doing first names, you can call me Delwin," the Sorting Hat said, having always wanted to be called Delwin, 'Hmm...'

Delwin looked through some of Harry's memories, chuckling when he came to the one that had earned him the title of Supreme Bhiggles and sighing when he came to that Jack fellow's idea of good advice. Delwin carefully overlooked the times Harry had met the Hat thief (and all mentions of time-travel) and wondered where the hell it was going to put him.

Hufflepuff was out right from the start. No matter how loyal Harry was and how fair he could be, Helga had given Delwin strict instructions regarding potential trouble-makers and trouble followed Harry like his shadow.

On the other hand, Rowena had given Delwin similar 'not my problem' instructions but she did make exceptions for the particularly brilliant mad genii. She might have made an exception for this one. There was no denying that Harry was clever. He was a fast learner and very good at thinking on his feet. Undoubtedly, he'd fit in well in Ravenclaw but gathering knowledge for knowledge's sake wasn't why Harry constantly wanted to try new things. No, the Hat didn't think Ravenclaw would be the best place for Harry.

Just as the Hat was debating between Gryffindor and Slytherin, it stumbled upon a series of memories that made up the Hat's mind.

'I'm sorry, Harry,' Delwin said guiltily, seeing how much Harry had admired Salazar when they met and secretly hoped to be in his house, "I'm afraid you simply don't have enough self-preservation to last long in Slytherin, especially in the current climate."

'That's alright,' Harry said, shrugging philosophically, 'I can always sneak in to see if Salazar put up all the talking snake statues he was planning on. Neville went into Gryffindor and he seemed nice.'

Delwin remembered the trembling, stuttering boy he'd had to argue out of Hufflepuff (see above for trouble-makers instructions) and the fierce, reckless determination bubbling below his surface when you scraped away the thin veneer of cowardice. The Sorting Hat wondered if putting Harry with Neville was such a good idea.

Well, it was too late now, Delwin thought, straightening up on his stool as the next student approached. At least the next few years were guaranteed to be interesting.

* * *

_**AN: So, a while ago, I decided to do a challenge I saw on a HP/SPN crossover (can't remember which one) on FF. I (obviously) can't remember where they got it. For some reason, when I first wrote this. I got the impression it didn't flow particularly well. Now I've reread it to see if it was worth publishing it seems alright. Maybe I edited it and forgot? Maybe I'm just sleep-deprived? Let me know what you think.**_

_**It's far too soon for me to be publishing this. I've been trying to space stuff out fairly evenly but that has failed miserably. As anyone who has ever given me a deadline can tell you, scheduling is not one of my skills. Ahh well.**_

_**Hope you enjoy, Sal xx**_

Challenge:

1\. Start with "It's like magic."

2\. Include "He gave her a hug"

3\. Include "It had been nine years"

4\. Add a scene that takes place in an empty warehouse

5\. Finish with a character who stutters


End file.
